Alone.
That is all JK had ever been.
Alone and forgotten in a cruel, heartless world.
Growing up at the orphanage, all he had ever wanted, was to find a place he could call home.
A family.
To finally know what it felt like to be loved.
He ran...
Wohooo, we're getting another POV. And it shall be no other than our favourite kitteeeennn
Warning: this is a loooong one
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Yoongi POV
I was alone again.
Back in that little six by nine solitary cell they locked me in for days at a time, nothing but the dark and the dripping of the leaking ceiling keeping me company.
Apparently committing arson made me a threat to the other kids in here and I was not to be trusted. Too violent and unstable to be integrated into society of any kind.
I wondered how long it would be this time.
Until I would forget basic human features. Forgot what it was like to talk or hold a conversation, my voice broken and rough from misuse. How to interact with other human beings.
Forgot what the sky looked like or the clouds. The feeling of grass under my feet and the warmth of the sun on my skin.
I thought about my mother again as I did so often. I didn't even need to close my eyes, it was this dark, as the image came.
My life played out before me.
Me as a child, round faced and innocent, not understanding why my mother was away so often. Why all the other kids in kindergarten were picked up by their parents, yet my mother told me I had to walk home by myself.
Why the other's proudly showed off their mothers home-made food while I had to make my own, mostly ramen noddles and other quick foods.
Now I knew it was because she was a single mother with no support and no money, working three jobs and barely making enough to feed her son. But the few memories I had of that time were always accompanied by the flashes of her smiles.
The way she kissed my forehead when she tugged me into bed. Making me seaweed soup when I got sick. Of playing superhero with me, knitting me a cape she gifted me to my birthday, laughter and screams of joy in the little, run down apartment we had lived in.
And when I was afraid of the dark at night, she would come to my room and tell me that the little blue nightlight she bought me held all the evils of the night away. Nothing could hurt me. I wouldn't have to be afraid of the dark...
...until darkness came into our life with a fake smile and false promises of a better life.
My stepdad took my mother from me. Offered her a better life where she wouldn't have to work so much. Would have someone to feed her nine year old son.
And yes... we moved into a bigger flat where there was actual hot water and a proper kitchen, the fridge stocked full for the first time in my life. And yes, my mother quit two of her jobs, working a regular 40 hour shift a week in a local hospital, nursing people back to health.
